


Animalia

by vulturewomen



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Death, Explicit Language, Graphic Description of Corpses, Kidnapping, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulturewomen/pseuds/vulturewomen
Summary: A small town where nothing happens. A small town of maybe 3,000, maximum. Paradise is its name, a moniker given by a priest turned mayor many years ago, its real name something long forgotten. Nothing ever happens there, and if it does, the whole town knows about it the next morning.But the tide is turning, and when the body of Jacob Boyce is found, Paradise is shattered.





	1. Coup de foudre

**Author's Note:**

  * For [narzisstische](https://archiveofourown.org/users/narzisstische/gifts).



> TW: death, graphic depictions of death

A small town where nothing happens. A small town of maybe 3,000, maximum. Paradise is its name, a moniker given by a priest turned mayor many years ago, its real name something long forgotten. Nothing ever happens there, and if it does, the whole town knows about it the next morning. The most thrilling thing to happen in Aleks’ existence living there was a girl his age being sent away for an abortion, never to be heard from again.

But the tide is turning, and when the body of Jacob Boyce is found, Paradise is shattered.

It’s late October and it’s cold out again. Summer vanished into thin air with no warning and Aleks is bundled up the eyes, trying to stave off a cold that’s almost inevitable. Every morning on his way to school, Aleks walks through a field adjacent to his house. It’s expansive and it’s private, which is what Aleks prefers. Somewhere to clear his head before school. This morning it seems particularly water logged and Aleks wishes he’d worn shoes that sat higher than his ankles because now he’s got spatters of mud all up his leg, which are now almost numb.

Just beyond the field, somewhere Aleks doesn’t tend to venture, a train track runs all the way into the city. There’s a police cordon woven tightly around the tracks. A lot of deer get hit this time of year. Aleks imagines the absolute terror they must feel, the train advancing towards them; too fast for them to move, just accepting the fact that they’re dead no matter what they do, and a dark shiver races down his spine. He figures the police must be on clean up duty.

Aleks’ eyes zero in on the three For Sale signs outside the houses just before the tracks. Two of the signs neighbour each other and there’s one slightly further down the street.

Aleks’ stomach churns in anxiety. Why leave Paradise, the happiest place on Earth?

The third sign is planted outside the Solomon house, a nuclear family from Oregon who moved to Paradise to chase a dead-end job. As far as Aleks knows, they’d made peace in Paradise. So why leave? In the dead of winter, no less. Why now?

The other two For Sale signs belong to a Tomas Borowski, a Polish immigrant who bought the house neighbouring his when its tenants, his parents, passed away. Aleks doesn’t know Mr Borowski very well but he knows Paradise hasn’t treated him fairly. Good luck to him, Aleks thinks, a solemn lump in his throat.

The grass is starting to crisp. A cold air blows at Aleks’ cheeks.

Aleks jumps when a distant, _“Hey!”_ startles him. He turns on his feet and watches a familiar face lope towards him. The boy has dark, tanned skin and a plume of black curly hair bouncing around on his head, like a puppy, as he approaches Aleks. Aleks recognises him from school. Sometimes Aleks catches the boy staring at him. Sometimes he catches Aleks staring. It’s become somewhat of a game, even as Aleks has yet to learn his name. It's _the_ boy.

“Hey! I thought it was you”, the boy says when he reaches Aleks, and Aleks offers him an awkward smile, “how’ you been, man?” The boy is grinning ear-to-ear, and he’s panting, a little out of breath from trying to catch Aleks up. Aleks nods in response. The boy doesn’t seem bothered that Aleks didn’t ask him how he was.

Aleks turns and begins to walk again, and he can see the boy from the corner of his eye, bouncing on his toes like he’s practically going to burst.

“So”, the boy starts, “what do you think the police cordon is for?” He’s staring at Aleks impatiently, like a child waiting for the answer to if they’re allowed a cookie from the jar. Aleks shrugs, feeling tense.

“I don’t know? Deer, maybe? A lot of deer get hit this time of year.”

The boy chuckles. “Don’t they have people for that? Why would that be police work?”

Aleks shrugs again, a little more defensively this time.

“I don’t know, alright! I think I’d prefer not to know.”

The boy holds his hands up in defence and backs down from the subject, obviously not something to talk about first thing on a Monday morning, but he can’t help himself from adding, “what if it’s a body?” and Aleks suddenly feels the urge to vomit.

Somewhere in his gut, he knows it’s not a deer. He knows it’s something far more sinister.

 

* * *

 

Trevor greets him at the school gates, wearing a sleepy grin. He looks as though he dressed himself in the dark. Aleks greets him with a handshake.

“So”, Trevor starts as they make their way into the school, “is there anything you want to tell me?” Aleks feels his heart quicken. No, he doesn’t think so? But nothing is more anxiety-inducing than a question like that. He raises an eyebrow and purses his lips, waiting for the accusation. “Is there something going on between you and that new guy?” Aleks sputters and Trevor raises a suspecting eyebrow, his teeth bleeding through his lips into a shit-eating grin. He hums, smugly at Aleks’ reaction and Aleks extends an arm to swat him on the shoulder.

“ _What_? Why’re you asking that for?” Aleks accuses, feeling a little scandalised.

“Well, I only ask because all he ever does is stare at you. He’s staring at you right now, actually. Does the dude even blink? I don’t think I’ve seen him blink once. Plus, I literally saw you walk up with him this morning,” Trevor tuts, “A little suspicious, if you ask me”.

Aleks frowns at Trevor and whips his head around, meeting the new boy’s gaze.

Trevor is right.

He's there; stood across the hall and staring right at Aleks. Just like yesterday and the day before that and practically every day since he got here. He’s always there, just slightly out of frame. His sharp brown eyes stripping Aleks raw every time they make eye contact. Aleks is terrified and intrigued; like a fawn, doomed from the start. He's under Aleks' skin and it burns.

Aleks turns back to Trevor, rubbing a hand over his jaw and looking through his eyelashes at Trevor, guiltily. “He followed me to school this morning,” and Trevor raises his eyebrows in surprise, “talking all mad about the train tracks and the police cordon and what _I_ thought it was there for, like _I’m_ a fuckin’ detective who’s gonna know that shit”.

Trevor raises a hand, like he’s shushing a wild horse, and blinks slowly, trying to catch up with what he just heard. “A cordon?”

Aleks nods remorsefully. “Yeah, the tracks by my house were swarming with police this morning. I don’t know why.”

The loud speaker falters and crackles to life behind them, interrupting them, and the principal's solemn voice breaks through the daze.

"Students, emergency assembly in the gym. Now."

 

* * *

  

"The body of your classmate, Jacob Boyce, has been found on the tracks in Fairwood.” A hush falls over the room and the silence is deafening.

Aleks hears someone choke back a sob and he suddenly feels like he’s out of his body, watching the scene unfold from the corner of the room.  

“There will be a memorial service for him next week. If you have any information at all, please talk to the police who will be stationed around the school. Until then, you are dismissed and are to go home straight away. The police will announce a curfew later this evening and you are all to obey. I don't want to make another one of these announcements again".

The bell rings.

Students file out of the gymnasium row by row, some students having to be carried out of the room, the grief making their legs too weak to walk themselves out.

Aleks spots the boy across the room, staring right at him, and Aleks feels as if they are reapers. Just the two of them. A mutual bond over a dead classmate. Kindred spirits of the dead.

 

* * *

 

“You know, they say that when they found him, he was so squashed you could barely make out his features! Police say he was almost indistinguishable”.

Trevor scoffs, falling into step with Aleks “They just can’t help themselves. The minute something happens that makes their lives slightly more interesting than the Dorito dust in their belly buttons, they can’t stop talking about it”.

Aleks doesn’t dignify Trevor with a response, feeling too numb to even nod.

Aleks was probably no more than 100 yards from a body this morning. The body of his classmate.

Fuck.

Jacob Boyce.

A 17-year-old boy.

A boy. A child.

Not a deer.

Not a deer.

A lot of deer get hit this time of year.

 

* * *

 

 


	2. The town that God forgot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mild gore, mention of a dead body, mild violence

 The boy is waiting for him at the gate. He can feel Trevor’s eyes on him; a childlike question on his face but no mouth to voice it, so he doesn’t bother dignifying Trevor with a response. He doesn’t feel like he has the energy to. Instead, he waves a non-committal goodbye and walks towards the boy.

The boy has this look on his face like he’s aged 20 years in a matter of 20 minutes. His face sags with grief. Aleks feels the same way.

They don’t speak to each other when they meet and instead start walking, like their bodies are autonomous and somehow synced and if Aleks takes a step, the boy does too.

The wind is bitter again. Not the same as this morning. It snaps now. Like it knows.

The boy furls his scarf further up around his face and tucks his hands in his pockets.

“What’s your name?” He asks out of nowhere. It’s obvious he wants to talk without bringing up the dead elephant in the room.

“My name is Aleks.” Aleks replies. The boy nods and his lips move around the word _‘Aleks’_ like he’s trying out the taste. “What about you?”

“I’m James.”

Aleks smiles. “Hi, James”.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you feel guilty?”

Aleks wants to say **_no_**. Aleks wants to say **_why would I? I didn’t do it._** _**I didn’t kill him**. _ But Aleks doesn’t. Instead he nods. Instead he says **_yes, I do feel guilty._**

“I feel like we could’ve done more. Which is so stupid. It was already done when we found it this morning. He was already  _dead._ So why do I feel so fuckin’ bad? Is this survivor’s guilt?” James’ mouth seems to run away with him. “Do the police feel guilty? Do they think **_“fuck, if only we’d got here sooner”_**? Or do you think it just rolls off their shoulders? Maybe it’s not the first seventeen-year-old they’ve found today. Oh, fuck. What if it’s not? What if he’s killed someone else and we don’t know it yet—”

“Hey— “, Aleks reaches for James’ wrist. “You need to calm down.” James’ chest heaves. “The police are doing the best they can, okay? They’ll get whoever did this. No one else is going to get hurt”. James is staring at Aleks’ hand on his wrist. “I feel bad too. But we can’t get involved like this. It’s only going to hurt us if we get involved”.

James nods but he’s not really listening. He’s got this faraway look on his face. He’s staring at Aleks’ face and Aleks suddenly feels flustered. He lets go of James. “It’ll be fine”, he says, resolutely, and continues his walk home. He hears James’ feet against the concrete as he runs to catch up.

“Can I have your number?” He asks, like 10 seconds ago he wasn’t about to keel over and die from panic.

“Why?”

James’ mouth hangs open. He doesn’t have an answer.

Aleks rolls his eyes and takes his phone out of his pocket, gesturing for them to swap so they can input each other’s numbers. “There, happy?”

James smiles and nods, pleased.

“Don’t send me stupid memes.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Mamma!” Aleks calls into the house when he opens the front door. The wind slams it behind him.

A middle-aged woman comes sprinting towards the door, arms open wide, and she envelops Aleks’ in them. “Aleksandr!” She coos in a thick Russian accent. “My son! Oh,” she kisses his forehead, “I heard about young boy. How are you?”, she kisses his head again, “if I ever get call like that about you, I kill you myself”.

Aleks frowns and tilts his head. “How would that work if I was already de—”

“Ah! Mother will find a way.”

Aleks huffs humourlessly and untangles himself from his mother to look her in the eye. “How did you find out, anyway?”

Aleks’ mother pushes him away and holds him at shoulders length. “Ah, nice young police officer came and told me. Told me about curfew, also. 8pm. Gets dark early in winter.” She points an accusatory finger. “Do not break rules.”

“I won’t!” He calls after her as she walks further into the house. “You know I don’t go out anyway!”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s 2:46am. At least, that’s what the clock on Aleks’ bedside table says. He hears an obnoxious buzzing and in his tired state, he can’t work out where it’s coming from until his eyes zero in, like a heat-seeking missile, on his phone.

It’s ringing.

The Caller ID: **James**.

Aleks sighs in exasperation and reaches over to pick it up.

“Do you fuckin’ know what time it is, you fucker?” He stage-whispers into the receiver.

A tinny, “sorry, sorry!” comes through in response.

“What do you want?”

Aleks hears James clear his throat. “Okay, well, I was reading an article about the murder—”

Aleks wheezes, “What? That’s exactly what I told you not to do! What are you doing?”

Aleks hears James swallow. "I can't sleep, Aleks. I’ve been laying here for hours trying to sleep, but-- It just keeps going 'round and 'round in my head", his voice cracks, "I don't know what else to do".

Aleks closes his eyes and sighs. “Okay. What did it say?”

"Uh, it said that there was another murder two years ago that was unsolved. You know Brett from our biology class?” Aleks hums. “It was his sister. She was murdered two summers ago. Cause of death was asphyxiation and blunt force trauma to the head, but they never found who did it".

Aleks has a lump in his throat that feels like it could choke him. He feels like he weighs a thousand tonnes.

“How old was she?”

“Seventeen”.

Aleks takes the phone away from his ear and heaves a shaky sigh.

“They found her two weeks later behind the church. Her name was Laura. She was going to Brown”.

Aleks feels as if he's got emotional whiplash.

“I was thinking that’s maybe why he got held back? So, I called my cousin, Tommy, who was in his grade when it happened, and Tommy said that one day, Brett just snapped. Threw a chair through a window, went completely A.W.O.L. Disappeared to Arizona for a year to live with his aunt. But he’s back now, I guess. Tommy didn’t have all the details”.

Aleks licks his lips in anticipation. “So, what are you thinking? That it’s the same person? The one that killed Jacob and Brett's sister, I mean.”

James heaves a big sigh. “It’s a long shot, right? But maybe they figured if they didn’t get caught the first time, they could do it again?”

A terse silence settles between them.

“Should we ask him?”

“Ask who?” Aleks yawns.

“Brett.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Aleks is practically shouting now. “Are you out of your mind? Have you seen the size of him? He’ll knock us into next week!”

James voice is clipped and defensive when he replies, “What have we got to lose?”

“Our fucking lives?”

“Please!” He’s begging now.

Aleks sucks the spit in through his teeth. “Fine. But, do not be mistaken. When he decides to hang you out to dry, I’m not going to defend you”.

“That’s fine!”

“Okay?”

“Fine. Good night.”

“Night, James”.


	3. what goes up must come down

Anxiety sits lurking in Aleks’ gut like a ticking time-bomb. Aleks could be convinced to do anything sleep-deprived, and James had taken advantage of that last night. He’d convinced Aleks to essentially walk into battle with him with a 0% survival rate. Today would be the day that he and James’ are murdered, Aleks is sure of it. Aleks is sure that he’s going to walk into school today, and not walk out.

James meets him in the field. It, thankfully, hadn’t rained the night before, and the field is pleasantly dry. Small liberties, and all that. A figurative last meal.

James has an apologetic smile on his face, as if he’s anticipating his ass being handed to him.

“Mornin’”, he offers before bracing himself when Aleks swings a wide-hand that lands square on the back of his head.

“You fucking asshole!”, and James is covering his face now from continued abuse. “I’ve known you less than a week, and you’re calling me in the middle of the night, and already trying to get me killed!”

“I’m not!”, and his eyes are wide when he shouts, “I’m just trying to stop anyone else being killed!”. Crows fly from their perch on the top of their trees, wanting to get out of the situation before it potentially explodes. If only Aleks had wings. Twice the appendages to beat idiots with.

Aleks lets his hands fall to his sides, the playful nature of the pseudo-conversation flying away along with the birds. He didn’t sign up for vigilantism. He’s not even sure if he agrees with it, and yet here he is, along with some schmuck he met last week, trying to stop a series of increasingly violent murders of kids their age. He feels like he’s making a deal with the devil.

“Do you know where he’s gonna be?”, Aleks asks, finally giving in, despite the torment in his head and his belly.

James holds out his hands, counting with his fingers, “well, he has Lit first, and then Math, and then he’s got Biology with us. After that, I think he’s in study hall, or it’s his lunch”.

Aleks raises a questioning eyebrow, “You’ve got his schedule memorised?” he blows air out through his teeth in mock amusement, “What is he, your boyfriend?”

“No!”, James sputters, his eyes as wide as dinner plates and full of something Aleks wants to call fear, “I’m just observant!”, but he’s looking at Aleks in a way that might be suggesting more than he’s willing to let on, and Aleks lets him look.

Perhaps Aleks wants him questioning.

Despite himself, Aleks snorts and cajoles, “whatever you say”, picking up the pace and leaving James in his wake.  He hopes the sing-song in his voice will turn the tension into something else. Perhaps a different kind of tension. “Sounds like you might be obsessed, that’s all. He’s a pretty handsome guy, who can blame ya?” and now James is really looking. His eyes are boring into the back of Aleks’ head, actually. He should sign up for a staring contest, he could take home gold with that attitude.

He turns, so he’s walking backwards and facing James. He shrugs, playing Devil’s Advocate to his own sick game. “Then again, you make a move and it’ll be the last thing you do.” He inclines his head to the side, egging James on, having no idea where this new-found confidence is coming from. But he licks his lips, begging James to strike.

But he doesn’t. He lifts his head, staring down his nose at Aleks. In the face of a grizzly bear, they tell you to make yourself big. Puff out your chest, hold your arms high above your head, don’t turn around. Aleks can’t tell who’s who.

“You wanna be late for school?” James runs his tongue along the edge of his teeth, tantalisingly, “Mr Edwards isn’t going to be very happy if you’re late for Maths, huh?” and Aleks scoffs, astounded at the sheer superiority of the boy. He kind of likes it, though.

“What, you memorised my schedule to?”

He shrugs, unfazed. “I have my ways.”

This time, it’s Aleks left behind. He hears James yell over his shoulder in his general direction.

“Let’s get to school before we miss it completely. You know how much I value my education”.

 

* * *

 

He’s sat with his back to them as they walk into the classroom. He’s a mountain masquerading as a man, with a shoulder span the width of a condors. He breathes and it’s like the room moves with him. At least this is biology. Somebody in the room will hopefully know what to do if they’re torn limb-from-limb at some point within the next hour and a half. Fingers fucking crossed, anyway.

Aleks takes a step forward and James grabs for his wrist, burning a hole right through to the bone.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in worry, and Aleks begs himself not to look. The confidence he had earlier drained out of him the second the door to the classroom closed behind them, snapping at his heels. The snakes of Medusa.

“What are you talking about?” Aleks whispers, incredulously, in response, “you were the one who brought it up! In the early hours of this morning, if I remember correctly!” He’s facing James, eyes impossibly wide, but James isn’t meeting his eye. James is staring at Brett, like this is the colosseum and he’s the lion. Probably got the same odds, too.

“Yeah, but— “, James peers through his lashes at Brett and then looks back to Aleks with wide, begging eyes, “look at the size of him. He’s gonna send us through a wall.” His voice is clipped, and he sounds desperate.

Aleks sighs, eyes to the sky. God help him and pretty boys. “Do whatever you want, man. You brought it up.” He puts a hand to James upper arm, only briefly, for some reassurance. He doesn’t know whether he’s trying to reassure James or himself, but the warmth emanated off him is certainly doing something. He wouldn’t call it reassurance though. “Just tell me if you’re about to jump.”

“Stop speaking in metaphors, dude. This is life or death and I need to understand every ounce of this situation, lest me misunderstanding gets us brutally murdered.”

Dear God. Help.

Aleks rolls his eyes, looking at James in askance. “Me talk less words? That good?” and James slaps him, playfully, on the arm.

“Go fuckin’ sit down.” And he gently nudges Aleks in the direction of his usual place near the long bay windows on the left side of the science lab.

“What, you’re not coming with?” Aleks swallows the disappointment. He not good enough, or something? Now they’re not teasing the bull, Aleks is no longer his right-hand man. Bullshit, if you ask him. But James looks taken aback, like he’d been swallowing disappointment soon replaced by surprise, careful not to choke on it on its way down his gullet.

“You want me to?”

And Aleks wants to give a scathing response. Wants to pretend that he doesn’t want to. Wants to continue this game. But in all honesty, it’s getting a bit tired, and two people have been murdered. He’s not taking his chances.

“Yes.” And James smiles, and nods, gesturing for Aleks so he can follow. Aleks hopes this doesn’t end like Romeo and Juliet.

* * *

 

Aleks grits his teeth, bracing his entire weight on the table to stop James’ jittering leg from rocking it. He’s been putting up with it for the last 48 minutes, but he’s not sure he can take it much longer. He wishes he’d sat on the outside, so to act as a physical barrier between James and Brett, who’s sitting opposite them on a table facing their direction. It’s like he’s begging for a chance to hit one of them, without really knowing it.

James is chewing his lips anxiously, and Aleks can see his eyes flickering to Brett’s every other minute, as if the action is on a timed loop. Aleks is sure Brett has noticed. Who wouldn’t notice? It’s like James is about to explode.

“Yo, cut it out.” He tries to be quiet, speaking in a low tone near James’ ear, as if speaking any louder will spook him.

“I can’t. I’ve been trying to, but my leg won’t stop moving!” and he sounds desperate, so Aleks swallows his pride, or doesn’t, and puts a hand on James’ thigh. To calm him. Like how you’d put your hand on the back of a wild horse. Don’t make it into something it’s not.

James is emanating such warmth, Aleks feels almost burnt. He squeezes just a little and watches the fabric of James’ jeans bunch under his fingers. He considers running his thumb in circles for only a second before he does it, anyway. If a violent serial killer is after them, this is the last thing he’s willing to worry about.

“Calm down”, Aleks assures, “You’re going to be fine.” He runs his thumb in languid circles, and watches James dance a shiver down his spine.

“I think—. I think I’m going to say something”, and Aleks’ stomach lurches with fear, but if he’s in it now, he’s in it forever. Besides, he did promise.

“Okay”. He nods, resolutely. “Wait until after the lesson”.

James nods, though neither of them will look each other in the eye.

* * *

 

When the bell rings 40 minutes later, neither of them move. Bodies around them are packing up their things in amicable conversation about lunch with their friends, the cacophony moving out of the room as one pulsing mound.

Aleks sees out of his peripheral that Brett hasn’t moved either.

He swallows.

Sure, he’d agreed to this. Sure, he’d promised. But he was hoping that it’d been a fleeting thought, and James would abandon it. But James’ hand falls to Aleks’, squeezing in terror as Brett rises from his seat like Neptune from the darkest depths of the ocean, his chair scraping against the floor like a bugle signalling the beginning of war, and he knows that it’s now or never, whether he likes it or not.

“What,” he starts, “the _fuck_ is your problem?” He’s snarling like a hell beast, and Aleks’ figures he’s probably not particularly fond of being stared at if he’s already spoiling for a fight.

James sits, mum. His mouth moves around words his brain is too cowardly to say, so Aleks takes charge. Even though this was James’ idea, even though he wanted none of it.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend here has been starin’ at me all lesson,” like poison, “is what I’m talking about. You got something to say?” And he puffs his chest like a cockerel, spurs sharp and ready to dig into flesh.

“Do you know who killed Laura?”

Brett deflates, his chest settling into his chest like a warmth and frothy grief, sitting heavy and burning for a year too many. Aleks looks to James as if he’s grown two fucking heads.

It’s as if Aleks blinks and Brett is someone new. Grief pours out of his limbs and is quickly replaced by a blinding, hot rage, his pupils like a pinhead. He reaches across the table and grabs for James’ collar, pulling his head down until Brett’s elbow reaches the table. Aleks stands from his seat, hand up, red flag in hand, to defend James from the bull.

“Keep my sister’s name of your dirty, fucking mouth.”

He lets go, and James coughs, happy to feel oxygen in his oesophagus again.

Aleks watches Brett closely as he grabs his bag and leaves the room. His heart pulls as Brett’s shoulders sag. They shouldn’t have said anything.

“Well, we’re alive.”

Aleks looks down to meet James’ eyes, glassy with tears. He puts a hand on the back of his neck to calm him down and doesn’t look at the tear that spills over his waterline.

Yeah. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeey. Long time no see. Sorry for the wait. 
> 
> Unbeta'd because you know I'm not into that.
> 
> Don't expect me again any time soon.
> 
> See you later.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't be stopped. This is unbeta'd. Let me know if you see any mistakes and please leave comments if you have something to say. Any feedback is welcome. I'm at jakobasher on Tumblr if you want to say hello.


End file.
